


Confessional Pride

by rataplani



Category: Original Work
Genre: Catholic Confessional, Gen, POV First Person, Parasitic Being, Personification of Fame, Rambling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-18
Updated: 2012-02-18
Packaged: 2017-10-31 09:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/342376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rataplani/pseuds/rataplani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're alright, Father, for a priest. I can honestly say that this doesn't come easily to me, but I feel like letting someone in the the big secret. Now, don't look at me like that. I assure you, this won't end in your death. You're not nearly interesting enough to kill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confessional Pride

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [31 Days](http://31-days.livejournal.com/) challenge on livejournal (the prompt in question is "August 8, 2011 - the celebrated strangeness of another".

I’m an ordinary kind of guy; always have been. Pass me in the street and you’d probably take me for just another loser: just reached adulthood and with nothing productive to do. And you’d be right, of course. Except for the part about noticing me. No one ever notices me these days if I don’t want them to.  
  
I just wander through life, taking in the sights and sounds. I’m particularly attracted to interesting people – strange people. Those with no recognition and a head full of ideas. I guess they remind me of myself, a long time ago. I have a talent as well, only mine is for seeking those people out. I find them, and catalogue them, and then report them to my friends. For a generic twenty-something, I sure have a lot of them – associates if I’m being honest. A few quick phone calls and my newest find is suddenly the biggest thing in town.  
  
Everyone’s happy this way. The Kid (always a Kid, regardless of age – old habits break hard) gets their fame and my friends get their money. As for me? I get money as well, a great heap of it. I’ve never really had need of it, so I palm it off onto some other nobody the first chance I get. There’s nothing wrong with a bit of charity, especially when I don’t want any of that stuff.  
  
What my real prize is, I have to wait for. As my Kid gets well  known, their mental store of originality and ideas grows and swells to keep up with the demand. You’ve probably seen the signs yourself on some well-known people. They get all strained and odd, and that means they’re ready to pop. Figuratively of course, as their heads don’t literally pop.  
  
Nevertheless, it just can’t be healthy for a brain to be full like that, so I take it upon myself to ease the burden. After all, a dull guy like me needs a little strangeness in his life. I think it’s perfectly reasonable to siphon off a little of that excess for myself. It’s certainly not my fault that once I start the process it becomes almost impossible to stop.  
  
The minor fact that energy containing the ideas and thoughts of others turns out to be highly addictive probably doesn’t help either. Quite often, I end up draining the Kid dry and dropping them back into nameless obscurity (or death, but that’s only happened once or twice, I swear).  
  
I don’t like it when that happens, because then I have go through all the trouble of finding another Kid and starting all over again.  
Oh well, such is life I guess. Not that you’d know, since you’ll forget about this soon enough Father. I’m just another guy after all, nothing noteworthy about me. It was nice chatting to you Father; I always hear it’s refreshing to gets things off your chest.  
  
Goodbye.


End file.
